


"Delightful Plum Scent!"

by Zephrbabe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky wanted it to be dirty, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Multi, POV Change, Pampering, but Darcy will subvert literally anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 16:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrbabe/pseuds/Zephrbabe
Summary: "Everything you do to yourself, I will do to Steve," he’d said. "Whatever you do," he’d said. Bucky’s lips had brushed the edge of her ear, and Darcy had been hard-pressed not to shiver. She always liked a challenge.The challenge was to see how much she could subvert a situation he clearly intended to be raunchy.





	"Delightful Plum Scent!"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anais_ninja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anais_ninja/gifts).



> From otpprompts on Tumblr: "An OT3 where Person C walks into their bedroom and finds Person A sitting on their bed while Person B is sitting in a nearby chair. Person B pulls Person C into their lap and tells them and Person A is going to give them a show and that anything Person A does Person B will do to Person C. How far it goes and what happens is up to you."
> 
> Further specified by anais-ninja-blog: "Okay okay okay. Everyone calm down and think for a minute. Obviously I’m going to need at least 1 filthy version for each possible combination. Duh. That’s a given. But what I really need is at least 1 clever, smartass PG version. At least 1. WinterShieldShock people, where are you?!"
> 
> So, here's a PG version, as requested.

_Everything you do to yourself, I will do to Steve_ , he’d said. _Whatever you do,_ he’d said. Bucky’s lips had brushed the edge of her ear, and Darcy had been hard-pressed not to shiver. She always liked a challenge.

She’d invited them to her studio apartment in Bed-Stuy for the afternoon’s activities, and they were situated on her too-small couch with those nasty protein shakes they always drank. She was facing them on her bed (her studio barely had room for a coffee table in between), in her favorite Black Widow t-shirt and threadbare leggings, with a home-brewed iced coffee on her nightstand, and mischief on her mind.

She started by undoing the braid she’d slept in, running her fingers through the waves with deliberation. Steve settled on the floor between Bucky’s knees to get his head to a good height. Soon, Steve was blissed-out and relaxed, the firm pass of fingers on his scalp turning him boneless.

Darcy was watching them, of course. So just as Bucky started to dip his head toward Steve’s, she chirped, “Drink!”

Bucky sat up with a slight frown. She was taking a huge slurp of her coffee, making extra noise with her curly purple straw. Now he understood why she’d dropped a loopy straw in Steve’s drink but not his: Bucky held the red straw to Steve’s lips, wishing _he_ was on the other side of that pucker, and not a damn piece of plastic.

“Ok, next!”

He snatched something out of the air before he’d fully registered she’d thrown anything. It was a pouch, squishy, and had a grinning cartoon raccoon on it, holding a cucumber slice in each hand. One of the raccoon’s arms was reflective silver, and had a red star at the shoulder. The Korean text read “Winter Soldier cooling face mask- special serum formula for youthful skin! Delightful plum scent!”

By the time he looked up at Darcy in bewilderment, she had the sludgy contents of her own package smeared on her face. She appeared to be suppressing a huge grin, and merely flapped her hand in Steve’s direction.

As he spread the packet’s contents on Steve’s upturned face (the plum aroma _was_ pretty delightful), Darcy spoke up, “They were in the favor bags from that huge party Tony threw for you when the Senate hearings were over- remember? The ‘James Barnes isn’t a war criminal’ gala? The favors were all you-themed. And you didn’t want your bag, so Nat and I split it.”

Steve couldn’t suppress his grin, the drying goop cracking over his cheeks. He’d handed his own bag off to Sam, for his little sister to parse out to her friends at NYU. He hadn’t even looked inside it. At the time, a victory party had seemed premature, even if the military hearings had ended shortly thereafter, with Bucky being honorably discharged, and awarded the rank of Master Sergeant and enough medals to crush a tank.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, Steve taking sips from his room-temperature shake whenever Bucky tapped his lips with the straw. He knew Bucky was watching Darcy’s every move. He’d certainly painted a picture for Steve on their way to her place from the Tower, though Bucky’s idea of how the afternoon would go had involved Darcy touching a lot more than just her face.

Steve was enjoying himself too much to be disappointed that their girl had foiled Bucky’s dirty imagination. There was always time for that, later. Knowing Stark, there was something from that party bag they’d be able to use; Steve hadn’t made anything of it at the time, but he’d overheard Tony crowing to Rhodey, _It’s articulated like the real thing, but the fingers vibrate! I’m only jealous I didn’t think of it myself. We need them for the goodie bags._

Opening one eye, Steve watched Darcy for a moment, until she looked up from her phone. “Articulated like the real thing, is it?”

The dark crust of the mask hid almost all her face, but he could see the blush spread down her collar and peek at her hairline.

“Time for face-washing,” she exclaimed, jumping from the bed. Steve rolled himself to his feet, feeling Bucky shift to follow.

“I think I can handle washing my own face, Buck.”

Bucky let him go, wondering what the interaction between his guy and gal had been about. He wondered if Natalia would tell him what had been in the gift bags; he couldn’t ask Stark without the engineer being put out that he’d let Darcy have his bag without even seeing what it contained. He’d recently been given a prototype carbon fiber-steel knife he thought Natalia would like- maybe she’d trade it for information.

It certainly didn’t take this long for two people to wash their faces.

He was just rising from his seat when Steve and Darcy stumbled out of her tiny bathroom, dewy faces pink and lips swollen. Yeah, they _definitely_ weren’t just washing their faces.

Darcy announced, “Phase two, dudes,” and hefted a large pouch onto the narrow coffee table, nearly upsetting their glasses. The bag clinked as though it were full of glass vials. Darcy looked inside, and seemed to stick her hand in at random. Settling herself against the Darcy-sized mound of pillows at the head of her bed, she said, “I won’t judge you for your color choice; they’re all good ones.”

The bag was full of nail polish.

Steve laughed and stripped off his socks. Bucky just shook his head.

It was up in the air whether Steve or Bucky would be the one to pick the color, or how much they’d argue over it. They were both trolls of the first order, so she wouldn’t have been surprised if Bucky had attempted to use the Iron Man duochrome she’d hunted down in Australia; she also wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve had insisted on the grey with red star glitter (also from the gala bags, thank you Tony).

Darcy pretended as though she wasn’t dying to see what color they chose, and started painting her toes with the electric peach she’d selected.

The first coat done, she considered taking mercy on Bucky and macking on him a bit while her nails dried.

Watching them together, though, brought an unexpected pang to her heart. They contrasted and harmonized even in the cramped space of her apartment. Steve was curled up in the corner of her dilapidated sofa, arms slung around his knees, watching Bucky apply the polish. Bucky had his tongue caught between his teeth, focused on his task. Their heads were almost touching. The atmosphere was concentrated, neither man knowing how to half-ass a given task. Even so, the way Bucky ran his hand over Steve’s ankle when he’d finished was relaxed and familiar.

Unable to wait, despite the satisfaction of witnessing them together in a quiet moment, Darcy swiped the bottle from the coffee table where Bucky had set it.

“Navy blue?” Her raised eyebrow said she’d expected more creativity from the both of them.

“It’s the color of his stealth suit,” Bucky said.

Steve wiggled his toes, drawing her attention.

She didn’t know how he’d managed it, but in the time it had taken her to apply one coat of polish, Bucky had added a silver star flanked by three lines on each of Steve’s big toes. Just like the stealth suit.

“’s my favorite suit,” Steve added.

Darcy glanced between the two of them. These days, she was pretty good at determining when they were trolling. She wasn’t detecting a sly twinkle or a repressed smirk from either of her men; they were just being that friggin’ cute.

“I can’t even with you guys,” Darcy stated, a smile blooming. “If you’re not making my ovaries explode with your shirtless masculine perfection, you’re making my ovaries explode by being ridiculously adorable.”

Steve and Bucky straightened themselves on the couch, Steve’s bare feet meeting her bright rag rug as Bucky reached one arm to pull off the first of several layers of hoodie and shirts. Steve’s long arms spanned her inadequate couch, the stretch of his biceps briefly distracting her from Bucky’s disrobing.

With the grin of a true troll, Steve said, “'Shirtless masculine perfection,’ huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [Tumblr!](http://zephrbabe.tumblr.com/)


End file.
